


Only Tears

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soul Mate, Angst, Canon Non-Binary Character, Character Death, Fluff, M/M, M/NB, Minor Character Romance, Multi-Era, No Smut, Non-Binary Main Character, One Sided Love, Original Character(s), Other, Reincarnation AU, Soul Mate AU, Temporary Character Death, Unrequited Love, Yongjoon is Non-Binary, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6989344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different piece arose from the glossy grand piano. A lullaby. He turned the corner, unknowing of what he expected. The first glimpse of the pianist was short as they swayed along with the beat. Eyes closed, back straight. A smile was painted faintly on their lips. The sun shone from the window behind them. They were basked in a soft golden light. Their fingers flew from one key to another, sure and steadfast. Their feet worked the pedals expertly. Jihoon slowly walked towards them, his steps unsure as the pianist's fingers slowed and then stopped. Their hands sat there, poised, and then slowly folded themselves into their lap. Their eyes opened. Jihoon inhaled sharply as the startling, blue eyes landed on him. A small smile complimented their caring expression. It was a look of familiarity. They expected him. They knew him. His heart felt at ease. He felt comfortable looking at this strange pianist, as if he had known them for a long time. He relaxed; his shoulders let their tension go as he exhaled a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Playlist of songs in this work is here >> [xx](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9ampDTYvrD8q1VNWRClNGQTqVSeqv4DD)

The lilting melody was familiar, and the acoustics of the building allowed it to be carried throughout the many-storied structure. Jihoon found himself drawn to the strange music. He followed the sound absentmindedly. The ambiance of the tune changed and emotions found their way into Jihoon's clouded thoughts. It was a sad melody; the beat was slow, with a hint of pain and desperate longing.

Again, the hymn changed. This time, it was faster. The feeling also changed, but only ever-so-slightly. The pain was still there; but it was as if the pianist was lost, alone in an unfamiliar environment. The feeling of a large area, uncharted and unfriendly. For some reason, salty tears stung Jihoon's eyes as they collected before falling. The wet streaks that marred his smooth face were cooled instantly as a gentle breeze wound itself around his being.

The song changed. The feeling of an adventure turned sour. Desperation. Agony. Rage. These emotions flew as he listened to the rapid refrain. Changed, again. He was still searching, his feet stumbling under him. This one...was different. He felt reminiscent. Reminded of happier times. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth; he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. It felt...nice. Loving. Warm. The ambiance was moderate, a nice pace. The clear, high notes combined with the repeating lows created an interesting dynamic. It faded, slowly.

This new melody...it felt like a lament. The rising bass and flowing treble struck a chord in Jihoon's heart. Who was this person who played so soulfully?

A crying aria; alone, with no bass, it stood. It felt as if disaster had struck. As if he was watching helplessly as innocents fell. The pace changed. He was fighting. He was falling. It ended. Tragically.

Another familiar ballad. A confession of love that was met with cold rejection. A feeling of loving through the pain. A brief feeling arose within Jihoon. Familiarity. As if he had felt this before. It was gone as soon as it came - a ghostly memory that escaped on a whipping wind. He couldn't place it. It was similar to the effect of déjà vu...but different. As if it had happened in a different world, another life. He stopped in his tracks. The sensation was disparate, but he felt accustomed to it. He couldn't describe the feeling. The closest he could get was the feeling of a memory long forgotten resurfacing, if only for a moment, then being forgotten once again, leaving a hint of emotion in its wake.

The song changed, and he remembered his mission. The piano in the lobby. The last place he could look. He started down the stairs (it was faster than the elevator, he swore), once again losing his thoughts within the melody that drifted along a blowing breeze. A loving melody. Happy. He smiled, the dried tears long forgotten, and quickened his pace. His heart swelled. He was filled with joy. A bounce worked it's way into his step. He hit the lobby floor just as the song ended.

A different piece arose from the glossy grand piano. A lullaby. He turned the corner, unknowing of what he expected. The first glimpse of the pianist was short as they swayed along with the beat. Eyes closed, back straight. A smile was painted faintly on their lips. The sun shone from the window behind them. They were basked in a soft golden light. Their fingers flew from one key to another, sure and steadfast. Their feet worked the pedals expertly. Jihoon slowly walked towards them, his steps unsure as the pianist's fingers slowed and then stopped. Their hands sat there, poised, and then slowly folded themselves into their lap. Their eyes opened. Jihoon inhaled sharply as the startling, blue eyes landed on him. A small smile complimented their caring expression. It was a look of familiarity. They expected him. They knew him. His heart felt at ease. He felt comfortable looking at this strange pianist - as if he had known them for a long time. He relaxed; his shoulders let their tension go as he exhaled a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

"Hello, Jihoon. It's nice to see you again." A small, comforting voice reached his ears. It matched the pianist well. There was a feeling in their voice - relief.

"Who are you?"

The small smile vanished and the warmth was replaced with a glimpse of pain. The smile was back a second later. It was different this time - the smile was no longer comforting; instead, it made Jihoon feel guilty.

"I'm sorry! I must have mistaken you for someone else. My apologies. I'll get going now." And just like that, the pianist was gone. Jihoon turned to find the lobby secretary staring at him.

"Who was that?" he asked her.

"The one playing the piano? Their name is Yongjoon. They're a new trainee. Just came from signing a contract. They start tomorrow, in case you were wondering."

Jihoon nodded slowly, turning to look back at the door Yongjoon had fled through. The journey back upstairs felt long and lonely without the sweet melodies to accompany him. He stopped before the practice room door to compose himself. Inhale, exhale. Open.

The other members were already there, yelling and jumping around like usual. Jihoon caught the eyes of Seungcheol. The man could read straight through his facade. He knew. He knew Jihoon was feeling off. Jihoon shook his head and made his way to his studio. It was quiet - well, quieter. Quiet enough. The door opened.

"What's wrong, Jihoon." It wasn't a question. He could tell something was off. He wasn't going to be slated with a shrug and a "Nothing, just tired".

Jihoon turned to face his best friend of 8 years. The man he could tell everything to. And yet the words wouldn't come. They stuck in his throat. How was he supposed to say it? He didn't even know what was wrong. How had that pianist recognized him? Why did he recognize them?

"Jihoon? Why are you crying? It's okay. You don't have to tell me. Just promise that you'll be okay." Yes - that's right. He was crying. He hadn't noticed. The door closed quietly. Jihoon sat there. For hours. He ignored the knocks on the door. He ignored the yelling for him to come out.

 

* * *

 

His nightmares plagued him again. A familiar figure in front of him, leading him through the maze of green trees and rocks. A frightened look back and a "Hurry up, Jihoon!". He was scared. That's all he knew. And then arrows sprouted from his chest. A cry of anguish. The figure was by his side, tears streaming. A whispered "Dear Lord, not again, please. Just once. I only need one lifetime." Arrows appeared from the chest of the figure in front of him. The dream darkened. He was running. An empty dirt road wound under his feet. The figure was there, running beside him. Gunshots rang in the still air and Jihoon felt something warm trace it's way down his chest. He fell. A cry of anguish. More gunshots. The figure fell beside him. A familiar smile on bloody lips.

"It's okay, Jihoon. It'll all be over soon. You'll be okay. All you have to do is close your eyes." The soft voice lulled him to sleep. The dream darkened. A house. He was in a house. It was homely. Warm. The smiling figure poked it's head out from behind a door frame and beckoned him to a brightly lit kitchen. Dinner was on the table. They ate well. He stared at the figure. His heart felt warm. He found himself smiling. The figure looked up and smiled back.

"I love you, too, Jihoon."

A soft hand led him to a dim living room. A record was playing. Blue eyes stared up at him, loving and kind. They danced. A slow, romantic dance. Lips touched. Fireworks. Smiles. Whispered I love you's. And then it began. The heat. The bright light. Pain. He was slowly, slowly dying. One last look at a terrified face. And he was gone. And so was the figure. The dream darkened. He woke up. Chest heaving, sweat cooling his forehead. The dreams slowly faded from his memory. A sigh. His eyes fluttered closed and he was unbothered as he rested.

Jihoon walked out of his studio, in the same clothes as yesterday. The lights blinded him. Jihoon was suddenly doubled over, too weak to stand on his own. His stomach was growling fiercely. His nausea was triggered. He forced down the feeling. Hands were on him, gently supporting him.

"Jihoon? Are you okay? Did you forget to eat again? You know you shouldn't do that. Your blood sugar is too low as it is. You always get nauseous too. Oh, dear, you slept in your studio, didn't you?" The voice rambled on. Jihoon couldn't see where they were leading him.

"Oh dear, this won't do. Okay, just sit in this chair over here and I'll get you some food. Stay there. Don't move." The voice was stern, motherly almost. "That's right! Here, I'll turn the lights off for you, too. You were always so insistent on that." A chuckle. Fading footsteps.

A cup was pressed to his lips.

"Drink. You're dehydrated again, aren't you? You never were good about drinking enough water." A laugh. "Like I should be talking! I'm in the same boat as you. Are you still nauseous? Try some crackers. Maybe you'll be able to keep that down." A hand stroked his hair gently.

"How have you ever lived without me, Jihoonie?" The darkness lifted. His vision corrected itself. Blue. All he saw was blue. Blue eyes. Full of love. He felt...safe. The hand was still stroking his hair. This feeling...he knew this.

Softly, "Are you awake now?" A warm smile. "I have some choreo I need to work on. President Han is giving me a test, to see if I can stay. I'll stay in this room, so if you need me, just say so. The glass of water and crackers are on the table to your right." A warm smile. The hand left his hair. He felt cold without it. A song began. Softly playing, as if not to disturb him. A figure was there. The owner of the soft voice and warm smile. The blue eyes. It was them. The trainee. Yongjoon.

Something tickled at the back of Jihoon's mind. A memory. But just like before, it was gone instantly. A ghost of the past whispered in his mind. A familiar gesture; a familiar scene. It rested like a delicate butterfly on the tip of his tongue, teasing his focus. He tried to hold on, but it was water, slipping through his fingers with no material mass that he could grab onto.

Jihoon was jolted out of his thoughts as the song started again. He watched carefully, focused on every movement of Yongjoon's body. It was comforting. He felt as if he knew Yongjoon, had known them for a long, long time. The little quirks in the way Yongjoon moved - the way they lead with their shoulders, the curve of their hand, the look in their eyes - it was as if he had seen them a thousand times.

He found himself smiling as he watched. _"They're still the same,"_ he thought. Jihoon sat up, shocked. Why the hell was he thinking that? The same as what? He didn't know them.

_How have you ever lived without me, Jihoonie?_

"Are you okay?"

"How do you know me?"

"What do you mean by that...I'm your fan, of course!" A bright smile. Crinkling eyes. _"Their smile is still the same"_. No. How did he know that? Why was he thinking these things?

"No...you know me. Somehow. You know my habits. You know how I feel when I don't eat. How? How do you know so much about me?" His voice softened. "How do I know you?"

Yongjoon's face darkened. They looked away. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. You stopped believing a long time ago." Their voice was harsh, cold. "You never remember. And you've started to refuse to believe me. You still have the nightmares, though, don't you?"

"How did you know? I've never told anyone, not even Seungcheol." Jihoon felt adrenaline coursing through his veins. His pace quickened. He wiped his damp hands on his jeans, eyes searching for emotion - for something - in Yongjoon's eyes. No luck. They were dull, dead. Nothing. Their expression was blank. And they were gone. Out the door. Not even bothering to close it behind them. Jihoon was left alone in the green practice room. Left alone to wrack his brain for memories. And then he heard it. The piano. Yongjoon was playing again. He followed the music, just like before.

It started off slow, disparate. There was a sense of longing, they always played with a sense of longing. And pain. So much pain. And oh so much love. They sounded desperate, the piece slowly gaining in intensity. It was a beautiful melody, layered atop an epic bass line. Jihoon could almost hear the accompanying orchestra. He knew this song. But as always, it was like a faded memory, only leaving a feeling. An emotion. It tore at his heartstrings and pulled at his chest with pain. And he realized: he had caused this. With his questions. Because he didn't remember. It hurt Yongjoon.

Another melody started. Slow, again. Building in intensity, then dropping off. Riddled with trills and ghost notes, the lullaby tugged Jihoon to it. Pain, again. Love, again. Again, again, again, the same emotions. The emotions weighed the originally light melody down. Instead of wind, it felt like a gushing river. It was pulling him along, washing over him and forcing him under. It filled him, through every opening it rushed in. He was crying, once again. And he found them. Not in the lobby, like before, but in a smaller, bare room. They were hunched over the keys, shaking softly. Droplets ran down their face, over their hands, onto the black and white keys. They were crying. And it hurt. It hurt Jihoon to see them like this, to know he was the one who made them like this. It was just too much. Sobs wracked his body, forcing him to lean against the doorway for support. And then they started singing. Their voice was weak, broken.

> _I love you. I'm sorry. But I can't do this anymore._
> 
> _I don't even have the right to get close to you._
> 
> _Don't love me._
> 
> _I don't have the ease of being able to give you my heart._
> 
> _I live every day beyond my strength._
> 
> _Each day is too much, so I cry._
> 
> _Oh, I don't have anything I can give you_
> 
> _But I'm missing you._
> 
> _I can't even give you loving words_
> 
> _But I'm missing you_
> 
> _I can't even boldly wish for you to be mine._
> 
> _But I'm missing you._
> 
> _So I push you away_ , _because I'm a guy who has nothing but his own heart._

Jihoon slid down the door frame, all his strength gone. His heart was heavy, and his chest ached. The song hurt him. But there was nothing he could do. He didn't know this person. He couldn't comfort them. He couldn't promise them his heart; the heart they so desperately wanted.

> _I'm holding back, even though it hurts._
> 
> _Even tears are a luxury for me._
> 
> _I don't even have the right to look at you._
> 
> _Don't look at me._
> 
> _I know that my heart is wherever you are_
> 
> _Close enough our breath can touch_
> 
> _Always in the same place._
> 
> _Oh, I don't have anything I can give you_
> 
> _But I'm missing you._
> 
> _I can't even give you loving words_
> 
> _But I'm missing you_
> 
> _I can't even boldly wish for you to be mine._
> 
> _But I'm missing you._
> 
> _So I push you away_

Jihoon was no longer crying. He was empty. All he had was the pain and the guilt. His heart hurt. It felt like it was being ripped out of his chest, slowly. This person was bearing their heart to him: their pain, their guilt, their insecurities. And he didn't know what to do.

> _More than anyone else in this world, I love you_
> 
> _So I am holding back._
> 
> _Oh, I can't hold your hand._
> 
> _But I'm missing you._
> 
> _I'm worried I might have only tears to hold_
> 
> _So I'm missing you._
> 
> _I can't tell you to stay with me_
> 
> _But I'm missing you._
> 
> _So it's too much, but in the end_
> 
> _It's because I'm a man who has nothing but his heart._

* * *

 

 The nightmares returned. And like always, the figure with the blue eyes was there. They were wearing traditional, royal clothing. The silky material shone iridescent in the gentle breeze. They were in a garden. He knew this place. He knew what was behind the towering bushes to the right. He knew the stone cobbled path that spanned over a calm pond. And yet in the back of his mind, Jihoon knew, he had never been here. Only in pictures, had he seen that bridge. Only in pictures, had he seen the flowers that lined the trail. Only in pictures, had he seen the gardens of Gyeonghui Palace. He was in the past, Jihoon knew that for sure. Three hundred years in the past: the Joseon Dynasty.

The figure took him by the hand. A smile. A whisper. He couldn't hear. The wind caressed his face. No, it was a hand. The figure's hand. They brushed back his hair. Gentle. He leaned into the touch. His chest felt warm. He was happy. Comfortable. Safe. He walked with the figure along the stone path. They were laughing. Their eyes were scrunched up, twinkling. Their cheeks were flushed, rosy. They were clapping their hands in delight. Jihoon leaned down. Their lips connected. Smiles. Hands caressed faces, dragged through hair, ran up and down and around backs and waists. It lasted forever, but not for long enough.

Jihoon knew: he loved this figure, and this figure loved him. They had the love people wished for in the dark of night, the love people tried to write in their stories. They loved each other, truly. It was inexplicable.

But the sweetness lasted only so long. A scream. A rush of guards. Inaudible yelling. Jihoon saw them, the figure, reaching out to him. A sharp pain. Warmth spreading down his chest. Tears. The figure was yelling. He couldn't hear. He couldn't breathe. A dark figure emerged from behind him and started towards the figure. Very clearly, he heard:

"Just close your eyes, darling. You'll be okay. Just go to sleep. Everything will be okay. I promise." The figure smiled at him, warmly. A familiar smile. And then a bright red waterfall appeared just above their collarbone. Darkness.

He opened his eyes, only to see the same figure above him. A hand was stroking his hair. A golden light filtered through green leaves above them and painted the verdant blades below. The figure was humming. A lullaby, familiar and pleasing. They looked down at him and smiled. Their lips connected. Smiles, like always. It felt like the first time, every time. And yet, it was familiar, comforting.

The figure had long hair this time - a light brown streaked through with gray. Flowers dotted their hair, small white ones with yellow centers. The figure made a small noise of exclamation and jotted something down in a notebook.

"I figured out some more of the song I'm writing for you, Jihoonie!!! I can't wait until you hear it."

"Well, you could sing some of it for me right now."

"Hmmm...all right! Just a little, though! I still want it to be a surprise." They started out by humming, a familiar tune, one Jihoon had heard recently. It was a loving melody. Happy. It filled him with a sense of joy.

> _I'll pick some roses for your room_
> 
> _Put them in water to make them bloom_
> 
> _I'll buy you candy to make you smile_
> 
> _And ask you if you wanna sit a while_
> 
> _Cause you are the only one_

A container landed next to them, shattering the peaceful feeling. Panic filled their hearts as the tried to run. Holes appeared in Jihoon's chest and a waterfall of warmth flowed through. His multi-coloured shirt had a spreading stain of red working its way over it. The figure was beside him, as always. Wet rivets in the dirt on their face shone in the golden sunlight. They fell to their knees.

"I'm so sorry, Jihoon. I thought we would make it this time. I promised we would. I'm so sorry." Darkness.


End file.
